A Fairly Average Fifteen
by classic rock lover
Summary: cowritten with Max Radio. Timmy is now fifteen, and is convinced he loves Vicky, who is going to New York. Since Cosmo and Wanda don't have a reason to be his fairies anymore, what will he do to keep them?
1. Whirl of Love

A door slams, and there's a rumble through the house as Timmy Turner clods upstairs in military boots, scuffing the new wood flooring, and carelessly throwing an old jacket on the couch in the living room.

His mother used to yell "Timmy?" when the cycle began one year ago, but she eventually just gave up. Dad knew better than to even start; he already was braced for it, and suggested to Mom that she accept it as well. "Pressuring them to change only makes them more stubborn," he had said, smiling, fondly remembering being part of Generation X and talking about overthrowing the government while getting high on someone else's property with Mom.

Today: A heartfelt note left pinned on his door to his room, telling him that they would be gone for a while, Vicky should be there by the time you get home. "Vicky...?" Timmy wondered for a second. He didn't see her when he came in. Oh well. Timmy threw the door to his room open and kicked the boots off, one hitting the wall and putting a black mark on it.

"Hey guys, I'm back," Timmy tapped on the glass to the goldfish bowl. He smiled, still no braces, and tapped again. "Guys?" Timmy sat down on his bed, and crumpled back. Cosmo and Wanda had been doing this all week, at first a joke, and now this was happening. It was Friday. Timmy didn't even wish for that much anymore, just barely enough to avoid magical buildup. And Vicky would be Vicky...She _still_ never left him alone, when she was here, that is.

Wanda hopped on his lap, a cat, and Cosmo chased his tail...also a cat. "Hey sport, sorry we're late again," she apologized while purring. Cosmo caught his tail and screamed. "AHAHA! Oh hi Timmy!" and leapt up on the bed with him. "I didn't see Vicky around when I came in," Timmy said, while scratching his godparents behind the ears.

His fairies shrugged. They already had an idea of where Vicky was, but...It wasn't like they were about to tell Timmy. Wanda arranged his boots under the bed, where the rest of his wished up clothes were. Cleaning Timmy's room was a hobby for her now, it used a good amount of magic these days. Cosmo spent his magic up by poofing into animals, but he did that anyway. There were just too many rules for what Timmy wanted to wish for at this age...

SLAM! "I JUST GOT BACK, WHERE ARE YOU!" Vicky screamed and slumped on the couch; Timmy could hear the springs creak underneath her. He gulped. Why did he even wonder where she was? Vicky was almost twenty one, probably out celebrating early. "TWERP!" That old name. Funny, she usually called him worse things while drunk.

"I know you're up there..." she said, quietly. Timmy inched out of his room. "What?" He yelled down the stairs. "Get down here, you little prick." He went down two steps. "More." Five steps. Cosmo and Wanda floated high above him for support. Timmy didn't wish for protection anymore; Vicky didn't really hurt him that much now. "All the way," she growled, and Timmy stood behind the couch that she was laying on.

Vicky turned over, and the couch groaned in protest of her weight. She ran a hand through his hair, newly cut, and gently stroked the earring hidden underneath it on his right ear. Timmy dropped his guard, and pulled his hands out of his pockets. Vicky yanked the little gold ring. "AH!" He yelled while she pulled him closer to her. "When did you get a piercing?" She laughed and shoved his head back. "Stop hitting on me. Fucking fifteen year olds."

Timmy rubbed his ear. Vicky already knew he got his ear pierced, she took him to the parlor in the mall herself. "God, she's done that before," he grumbled and took the earring out to see the damage. No blood this time. Wanda looked on with a frown and gave a look to Cosmo. "At least she's still making me miserable," Timmy wandered into the kitchen and drank milk straight from the jug, which his family had to start buying because he drank a lot of milk these days.

"Get me something to drink, fag," she yelled from the living room. "Like what?" Timmy yelled back in a whine. "...Coffee." She knew that nobody in his family drank coffee anymore. He carried the jug of milk with him into the living room. "Here," he handed it to her. She drank the rest. "I'm not s'posed to drink milk, it kills my diet," she mutters to herself before sitting up, making room for Timmy next to her. He flipped the channel, never staying on one station too long.

Vicky stretched out, and Timmy laid his head on her lap, still flipping. She ran her chubby hands through his hair. "You need to take a shower, greaseball." Timmy sighed and ceased clicking, resting his hand on Vicky's other monstrous thigh. He buried his head in her stomach, closing his eyes. "Don't get smooth, you aren't even old enough," she laughed, and pulled out a small, greasy hair on the back of his head. Timmy yelped, but kept his head in her lap, too warm to leave.

Vicky was just like she was when he was ten, never leaving him be. Difference was that now, sometimes, he didn't want her to. Timmy remembered when he turned twelve and Vicky let him take a nap, and he woke up with her stroking his forehead and humming to herself. When Vicky saw his eyes opened in shock, she merely flicked his brow and started stroking over the red mark she left.

'_What're you doing!' _he yelped, suddenly kicking back to his wall. Vicky huffed. _'Fine.' _she had said, and left the room. Timmy had found her downstairs, and sat next to her on the same couch, letting her stroke his forehead that time.

It had continued, day after day, and was never purely tender. Day after day Vicky made a point of smacking him, punching him, calling him names, ordering him around, and pulling on his hair and now his earrings to keep him miserable. So long as she would let him lay on her lap, Timmy would let her do whatever she wanted. He didn't even mind that Cosmo and Wanda objected to it. _("She's the enemy!")_

"Get up." Timmy got up. "I'm leaving early, I've got a date," she said, and he didn't believe her. Vicky always gave him this kind of crap, but he never had the heart to tell her that she was just to fat and waxy to get a date these days. He loved her too much. Vicky slammed the door, the same way she came in, and Timmy helped himself to the entire couch, reveling in the warm spot that Vicky left him.

--

It was late now...Eleven thirty. His parents pulled in to the driveway, carrying bags of groceries, while Timmy watched them from his window. Cosmo and Wanda poofed to the bedside. "Timmy..." Cosmo watched him shut his eyes. "Go to sleep, pumpkin, we'll be here in the morning," Wanda cooed and kissed his forehead. 'They don't get older, like I do,' Timmy thought, while drifting away, 'why can't I stay the same way forever too?'

–Saturday–

"Hey AJ!" Timmy yells out the window at his friend. Chester is following him, beaming yellowish (but perfectly aligned) teeth. "Timmy, come on, aren't you going to Trixie's today?" AJ called to the window. "Yeah, she actually invited you to her house..." Chester sighed. Timmy had forgotten all about it.

At school, when he started to first fall in love with Vicky, Timmy's fantasies about Trixie had slowly decayed and died. Everybody noticed how Timmy ignored it when Trixie would flip her shimmering black hair, and Trixie noticed that he was no longer advancing. It was one less admirer, and she immediately blamed Veronica, who had actually transferred schools, and nobody noticed.

Trixie had actually flipped the tables around and began asking Timmy out, who usually said 'yes' so suspicion wouldn't form that he was gay or something, but always forgot their dates (whether purposely or not). Why he didn't just go, Timmy himself didn't know. It wasn't like Vicky expected him to be 'loyal' or anything. It was just...he just wanted to be.

"Alright then. Let's go," Timmy came out of his house dressed like a slob, camo pants, black t-shirt, and his...backpack...He did have a new pair of shoes on, though. An added detail as forced on him by Wanda, who would rather he went out with Trixie than Vicky anyday. "Oh yeah," Timmy smacked his forehead, "I'm going over to her house, right? That big rich old mansion?"

Nods from Chester and AJ, too shocked at his apparel to speak. Maybe he'll go change.

Timmy did change...out of his black shoes. He pulled tennishoes out of his backpack, the year-old ones that had holes in them and were too big when he first got them. "Right, let's go!" he cheerfully said, and made a point of maximizing his usual slouch. His friends stood, petrified. "What? Didn't you want to take me to Trixie's?" Timmy challenged. Chester wasn't so sure anymore. AJ knew this was a trick. "Yeah. Yeah, we are. Come on Chester," he said, and hopped into a van.

While they piled in, AJ started the thing, and sped out, leaving marks. If Timmy wanted to be an idiot, fine. If he insisted on letting people call him a queer, fine. But he and Chester were getting part of the insult wave. Both were already well aware that Timmy had something going on with another girl, but they didn't want any business with his social standing, which was still low.

Chester was told by AJ earlier that if they could just get Timmy seen by Vicky, who was so infatuated with him by now that she couldn't give a damn about how unpopular he was, they would be in the clear. Chester kissed his cheek and called him 'brilliant', which was true. Then they went for a ride in AJ's 'van' ("technically it's not a van, I made it with parts of go-karts, so we're legal") to the peak, where they made out and talked about a future that didn't judge.

"What do you guys care so much if I don't want to go out with Trixie?" Timmy asked, chewing his nails in the backseat and spitting them out next to him. AJ hated that. "You know why," he mumbled, while putting on the turning signal and studying Chester, who was totally unphased by all of this, staring out the window. "Who cares if they call you queer. It's true."

AJ slammed on the brakes. No cars were coming anyway. Chester glanced behind himself at Timmy, then went back to the window. AJ glared and shook a finger at him. "We've talked about this a million times, you know damn well that I care, even if Chester doesn't. Besides," he noted while turning around to drive, "if my parents hear that, I'm not sure what they'll do."

Chester knew that his own dad wouldn't care, but AJ's parents...He had invited him to stay with him if that ever happened. AJ only smiled and said that it wouldn't happen. "That's cruel, Timmy," Chester said quietly. Timmy's face went red with shame. It was cruel, but so was dragging him to Trixie. "I don't want to go out with her." He said with finality.

AJ pulled up to Trixie's...mansion, to the sight of Trixie in a bathing suit, sunbathing back-up in the front yard. Her headphones were on or something because she didn't hear them pull up. "Who couldn't want that?" AJ asked Timmy. Chester frowned. Her swimsuit did not go with her skintone. AJ nudged him. "Smile, dumbass," he mouthed.

Although Timmy had to admit to himself that Trixie in a skimpy suit, waiting for him, willing to go out with him and probably other things did turn him on, but thinking of Vicky discouraged him. He stubbornly crossed his arms in the back seat. AJ gave up and sighed. "Fine. Fine. We'll go," he huffed, while pulling out. Vicky heard this time. "TIMMY!" she cried from her position, twisting around to see the van and AJ sitting in front, "You came this time!" Timmy paled. Trixie looked so hopeful, so desperate.

AJ continued driving out, while Timmy looked away from Trixie, who hesitate while running over to them, hand stuck in the air. The windows rolled up. 'Timmy?' Trixie's mouth went, while they drove off. He couldn't bring himself to look out the back window at her. "Happy?" AJ asked. Chester stared out the window. "I can't believe you did that," he said, whether to Timmy or AJ, nobody was sure. And nobody asked.

--

Well, it ended up with Timmy being brought home, parents waiting for him with his lunch, and Tootie waving from inside the house. He realized that there was no escape from the girls now. AJ dropped him off, speeding away before Timmy was even fully out of the van, leaving the door open. Mom asked what that was all about. Nothing. He grabbed a sandwich from Dad, who had a tray of them, and a glass of milk from Mom, who frowned.

Tootie followed him up to his room. Timmy slammed the door on her. She talked to him through the wood. "My sister's moving to an apartment in New York for college, finally! No more Vicky!" Tootie laughed. Timmy didn't hear her through the soundproof barrier he wished up. "What happened?" Cosmo asked when Timmy flopped on the carpet of his room, and was poofed a PS2 by Wanda.

"Bad day. Trixie. Don't want to talk about it." Timmy said. Wanda frowned and shrugged. "She's like you used to be toward her, remember?" Cosmo said. Timmy shrugged. "Who cares. HALFWAY THROUGH LEVEL ONE!" he cried.

Timmy's parents looked up at the dining room ceiling. "Goodbye, Mister and Mrs. Turner. Timmy doesn't want to talk...again..." Tootie sighed, and left the house, alone. "This has gone far enough! I don't care if Timmy is going through a phase, it's only polite to walk a girl out when she leaves the house!" Mom proclaimed, "And what is he doing that has a 'level one' to it? I never got him any of those video games!"

Dad watched her powerfully march up the stairs. 'Is she going through her 'womyn' thing again?' he thought to himself. He heard her pound on Timmy's door. "OPEN THE DOOR THIS SECOND!" Mom yelled, while nothing happened. Five minutes of silence later and she weakly dragged herself downstairs, defeated.

"I'll deal with him later," she said while sitting down to her salad lunch.

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note from **Max Radio**: _I have a story a lot like this on fictionpress. It's 'Max Radio' there too, so look that up. Thanks to ClassicRockLover for listening to me about this!  
_


	2. Skip Monday

**-Tuesday-**

So Timmy spent his Monday, which was so incredibly boring that it doesn't even deserve a chapter, making plain, pointless wishes. Sure, he went to school...for a little bit. Vicky wasn't there, so he decided to "Fuck it," and skip the last four or five classes. Nothing was worth anything if he couldn't see Vicky around.

Not to mention Chester and AJ were in the midst of some petty...event...of theirs that took place over the weekend.

"Timmy?"

Wanda floated over to him, lying on his bed, lazily tapping away at a PSP. He didn't bother looking at her. Why didn't anything matter anymore? Ever since he saw Vicky walking away from the school with that new guy...

"Timmy?"

Wanda persisted. Timmy didn't bother acknowledging her, because she already knew what was wrong. "I don't want to talk about Vicky, okay? I just want to...relax and stuff," Timmy said, flipping off the PSP and tossing it in the air for Wanda to poof away. She didn't, and let it hit the floor. "I'm worried about you, Timmy. So is Cosmo," Wanda spoke loudly over Cosmo snoring in the fishbowl, "and I'm sure that your parents are worried, too."

Timmy listened for a blissful moment to the sound of his mother downstairs, laughing at a sitcom, actually home; he would never admit feeling this. His parents had given him a lecture, a lecture that was so long that it was notable among the thousands that dotted Timmy's life given to him by the people around him, about the importance of keeping in school and education. Honestly, the only thing on his mind lately started with a 'V' and was hanging around a highschool sleazeball.

When Timmy had asked his mother, on getting home from school 'early' on Monday, where Vicky was, Mom stared at him long and hard. He never got an answer to his question. She went straight into the lecture, and Dad heard her from the bathroom, so of course he hurried to join in. After this lecture, Timmy had wandered into his room, locked the door, and prepared for a lecture from Cosmo and Wanda, who he insisted stay home from school on Monday.

Maybe Monday should have gotten a chapter.

"What about Chester and AJ?" Wanda rattled while hovering above Timmy, always above, never equal to, "Aren't you worried about _them_? They're your friends, Timmy, and you've just stopped _caring_..." Wanda sighed, and when she received no answer, not even a glance, she retreated to the fishbowl.

Wanda remained above it for a moment, her back to Timmy. "Cosmo and I _love_ you, Timmy. We're your parents, too." She disappeared into the glass bowl, maybe to call it a day like her snoring husband had. It was already nine p.m..

Without thinking, Timmy let his eyes close. There had to be some way to care about something.

**-Wednesday-**

The air was calm, and the morning held Timmy in its serene aura for a minute or so. He stretched at long last, not caring that it was almost eight thirty and school was going to start long before he got there. Even Timmy, in his depression and lovesickness, knew that if his parents didn't wake him up before the bus came then they probably weren't home.

Sure enough, a note on the dining room table read:

_Timmy, gone to party w/ friends _

_from office! Be back soon enough_

_sure that you can find something_

_to eat if we aren't_

All of this was very typical, but Timmy's heart skipped a beat on the last line:

_p.s. Vicky will be staying there for our trip_.

And then:

"TWERP!"

Vicky dragged herself out of the kitchen, in a robe, eyes baggy and smeared with clumpy mascara bits. Her fat rolls were visible even through terry cloth, Timmy noted, and her feet looked like pigs that had scarlet blood on their foreheads. He had never seen a more beautiful sight. "I made breakfast, but _Christ_, you can't expect a pig like me to go on making food and not eating it. But I did find this," she tossed him an apple, "never was a big fan of apples. Oranges are good, though, but of course you don't have any..."

Timmy interrupted, "Aren't you going to send me to school? Why aren't _you_ in school?"

Vicky answered with questions of her own, "How much of a dumbass are you? What do I care if you fail? And why _should_ I go to school?" She defiantly threw herself on the couch, causing it to creak like it usually did when Vicky laid on it. Timmy quickly grabbed the remote before she could touch it. "I managed to convince your fucking parents that I was on break for being a good student," she snorted, "now give me the remote."

Timmy sensed Wanda, maybe Cosmo as well, listening in from upstairs. He was annoyed with them that morning because they hadn't woken him up to inform him his mother was gone, so Timmy decided to screw around with their feelings. _'So you guys are worried?' _he thought, selfishly.

"What do you do if I don't?"

"I get you."

Vicky pulled him by the knee onto the couch, where Timmy was daring enough to pretend to lose his balance and sort of sneak in beside her. He could almost hear Wanda sucking in her breath on the stairs. Vicky knuckled his head. "What an idiot, sheesh."

They lied there for a few shows, together, just watching early morning television. Timmy wondered where Tootie was, and when his parents would get home. But more importantly, he wondered who that greasy guy was that he saw with Vicky on Monday.

When there was a commercial break, he worked it in. "I saw that guy at school. He had a nice car," Timmy stumbled a bit, "I don't know who he is."

"And you never will."

Vicky was being a little bit more gentle with Timmy than she usually was, so he cleared his throat, preparing to ask another question. She interrupted him before he got the chance. "I'm gonna go to a college in NYC. He's the son of a college president there, and he's thinking of putting in a good word for me."

Timmy's heart stopped, in a bad way. Vicky continued:

"Not that this is any of your business. I just don't want to be too...you know...'Cuz I know you like me, and these might be the last few months you get to see me. This is something I can't pass up, even for you, you little shit," she turned the volume down on the TV, maybe to hear Timmy's defeated, fearful breathing a little better, before deciding to explain to him her reasons, "This is something that I could never walk away from.

"Maybe I could get a better job, you know, something with like, a business or a firm or whatever, maybe get a nice car and...someday get married or something. I just don't see that happening if I keep on babysitting you." Vicky sighed woefully. Timmy thought that he could hear Wanda sigh, too.

"We could get married if you wanted to." Timmy had no idea he said that.

"You're a pisshole,"Vicky made a motion to hit him, and Timmy flinched, but she caressed his face instead. "You just can't understand right now, twerp."

Timmy and Vicky continued to watch TV before Timmy heaved off of the couch into the kitchen, contemplating on ways to murder the young man that offered Vicky a chance at college in New York. What did she have to do to get that rich little prick to "put in a good word" anyway? And why didn't he have any idea about any of this before Monday?

The phone rang. "I got it," said Timmy stupidly, and Vicky grunted. The caller I.D. said that it was Trixie, but that couldn't be right, she was a good girl, she went to school, she got good grades...Unless that was all a misconception too. Timmy waited for the phone to stop ringing and hang up on itself, or for Trixie to leave a message, but the damn phone just wouldn't-

"DO YOU GOT IT OR NOT? JESUS CHRIST," said Vicky suddenly, marching into the kitchen and snatching the phone out of Timmy's hand. Without looking at the I.D., she pressed 'Talk' and held it up to her ear.

"WHADDYA WANT?!"

note from** Max Radio**: _pardon for the long wait in writing and finally 'displaying', but it was a busy past few...weeks...for classic rock lover and I. She had to go see Paris Hilton and learn a few more paragraphs of the Quiran in Swedenese...and I like sleeping in and procrastinating. Go figure._


	3. Various Concerns

previously:

The phone rang. "I got it," said Timmy stupidly, and Vicky grunted. The caller I.D. said that it was Trixie, but that couldn't be right, she was a good girl, she went to school, she got good grades...Unless that was all a misconception too. Timmy waited for the phone to stop ringing and hang up on itself, or for Trixie to leave a message, but the damn phone just wouldn't-

"DO YOU GOT IT OR NOT? JESUS CHRIST," said Vicky suddenly, marching into the kitchen and snatching the phone out of Timmy's hand. Without looking at the I.D., she pressed 'Talk' and held it up to her ear. 

"WHADDYA WANT?!"

* * *

Silence. Vicky visibly cooled and shot Timmy a look. "Yeah, he's here, who the hell are you?"

Timmy's heart pounded. He wanted Trixie to hang up, to leave him alone forever, so that she wouldn't get sucked up in the vortex that he and Vicky had created together. Timmy wanted to wish that he could go back in time and be 11 again, pretend that this never happened. He could try to fall in love with Trixie and he would convince Chester and AJ to stay friends instead of taking it to "'the next level'", producing high levels of drama.

Vicky would still be the mean babysitter to him, nothing more.

"No. He can't. He's busy." Vicky was level now, tapping her foot and resting her hand on her hip. Timmy stared at her. She stared back, eyebrows furrowed, but her gaze soft. "...No. Besides, you both should be in school right now."

Trixie was skipping school, too? Why? Timmy fantasized that Trixie went to school, noticed that he was not there, and then she left in the pulse of deep depression. She'd have gone home and wrenched the phone off of the receiver, hurriedly dialing the Turner's number all to ask if Timmy was in the house and not in some kind of mortal danger. Trixie would have looked for any reason to believe that Timmy was still alive and not accosted by a child molester or...

Watching Vicky with the phone to her ear, still staring at him, Timmy gave up fantasizing. He knew that any and all fantasies of any other girl caring about him in that way, besides Vicky, would be impossible from that point on. He curled up on the couch, shamefully hiding his face from Vicky's stare.

"Yah. 'K. I'll tell him. Your name's Trixie? 'K. Bye." Vicky put the phone back on the receiver and looked down at Timmy, curled up on the couch. "So, that was your girlfriend or what?" she joked, but a little cruelly. "No," he answered, his voice muffled through his knees. "She was a could have been." Timmy wasn't sure why he'd said that.

"Oh. Yeah, I've had a few of those..." replied Vicky vaguely. She left the living room, and Timmy went upstairs.

-Thursday-

The day began with Wanda and Cosmo complaining.

"Timmy! You're so..." Wanda shook her head. She buzzed around Timmy's bed, and Cosmo watched from the fishbowl. "How could you skip school? That's worse than...well, I can't think of many things that're worse right now..."

"Skipping school AND yelling at your parents!"

"Thank you, Cosmo," said Wanda. It was true. Timmy had yelled at Mom and Dad when they came home from...well, Timmy didn't really ask anymore. But they came home and started screaming at him, about how they got a phone call from the school principal asking why he wasn't in school that day, and they were forced to say that they hadn't been home for twenty four hours, etc., etc.. Timmy had yelled that it wasn't his fault, that the school hated him, and he had screamed, "Why are you guys being such assholes", which, needless to say, had gotten him in a big pile of trouble.

Timmy pulled the covers over his messy head. He scowled at the blurry form of Wanda on the other side. "Why do you guys care so much? You're my godparents, not my parent parents. You should be out getting me tattoos or taking me drinking or something..." Timmy curled up in fetal position, and Wanda sighed before taking a rare course of action and sitting on the mattress beside the lump which was Timmy.

"I think that you're taking us for granted," she said, polishing her wand casually. She poofed the covers off. Timmy looked over his arm at her, keeping the lower part of his face concealed in the crook of his elbow. _"No," _he thought about saying,

...except Timmy didn't say that.

Instead he shot a look at Cosmo, who was amusing himself by making faces on the glass and drooling everywhere ("I think that it's something in the fishfood," Wanda sighed once, "he's never been quite so...well, uncontrollable."), and shot the same look at Wanda. Timmy's look told them both to leave him alone, so Wanda poofed into the fishbowl. Cosmo looked hurt. "Come on," she murmured sadly, and pulled him by the fin into their castle.

Timmy felt very alone. And then, the cellphone he wished for cried out from under the bed. "Got it," Timmy said out of habit. He checked the ID: AJ. "What's up," Timmy answered. AJ sighed on the other end.

"Timmy, I hope you're going to school today," he huffed.

"Why?"

"Why else? Chester's being a bastard and I have no one to talk to except Trixie, and all she talks about is you -"

"Trixie?" Timmy cut AJ off, "What does she say?"

"-...Do you not care about my troubles? I didn't call to tell you about Trixie. And I know that you aren't interested in her, so you can just knock it off right now -"

Timmy broke in again. "You know that I don't really want to know about that thing you and Chester have, okay? I'm still a little weirded out by it. And besides, you're the one who brought up Trixie, the least you can do is tell me what she says about me..."

"Whatever. And quit interrupting, it's pissing me off," warned AJ. "Anyway, all that she says about you is that you're like, so great and everything...definitely not as big of a deal as you're thinking it is."

Timmy growled to himself. AJ was a little shorter than he was, but he was a lot more muscular, in a linear, calculated sort of way, like AJ's body was imitating his mind. AJ's voice was also intimidating. Not only was it progressively deep, but also more imposing than anybody else Timmy knew his age. Whenever AJ would get angry, his voice had the same intimidation factor as a man twice his age. It made for strange arguments.

"Alright, whatever. Don't get all preacher on me. I'll be at school today anyway, you can talk to me there." Timmy clicked the phone shut without saying goodbye, and so did AJ.

He reluctantly got dressed, and realized that his parents weren't home. Again. "Vicky isn't going to come today, either," he thought out loud, and Cosmo appeared in front of him. "Yeah, she's gonna be with Mr. Greased-Lighting today, getting her fancy -" contemptuous look, "'college opportunity'."

"Cosmo!" scolded Wanda, also poofing out. She covered her eyes at the sight of half-naked Timmy, who sighed. "No, it's true," he said. Cosmo frowned. "Sorry," he said, and poofed away. "Timmy, don't worry about him, I'm sure that Vicky'll come over today," reassured Wanda. Timmy knew this wasn't true, but he appreciated Wanda's lying to him. He kindly ignored both of his godparents as he left his bedroom.


	4. The Mechanics of Love

quick A/N: _Sorry for the confusing change of tenses that have been showing up since chapter one...also for the change of aesthetic. I've been having a hard time deciding on the form that these chapters will take; any thoughts would be appreciated :)._

* * *

previously:

_...He reluctantly got dressed, and realized that his parents weren't home. Again. "Vicky isn't going to come today, either," he thought out loud, and Cosmo appeared in front of him. "Yeah, she's gonna be with Mr. Greased-Lighting today, getting her fancy -" contemptuous look, "'college opportunity'."_

_"Cosmo!" scolded Wanda, also poofing out. She covered her eyes at the sight of half-naked Timmy, who sighed. "No, it's true," he said. Cosmo frowned. "Sorry," he said, and poofed away. "Timmy, don't worry about him, I'm sure that Vicky'll come over today," reassured Wanda. Timmy knew this wasn't true, but he appreciated Wanda's lying to him. He kindly ignored both of his godparents as he left his bedroom._

**

* * *

**

**-Thursday- **(_continued_)

"Timmy!"

As soon as the bus dropped him off, Timmy glanced down the sidewalk to see who else but Trixie running toward him, her crisp, pleated knee-length skirt flying around her slender legs. She was wearing Mary-Jane like shoes, not a single scuff on their dark brown surface. A girlish, innocent chest was hidden further by a beautiful handmade knit sweater, glittering somewhat, in Trixie's favorite shade of pink. Her hair was pulled from her face with barrettes, and her makeup was immaculate, each eyelash lengthened and curled so that they gracefully reached out to him from her half-moon shaped eyes. Trixie was dressed up.

Timmy stood still, and he heard Cosmo and Wanda whispering to each other on the cover of the notebook he held in his hand (Transformers; Wanda was a bright pink sportscar robot and Cosmo was a kid with green hair driving it). "OW!" they yelled unanimously when he slapped them with the flat of his palm.

Trixie, trying to disguise her panting, asked "What's wrong?" and delicately wiped a little sweat off her tanned brow. It caused her foundation makeup to streak noticeably. Timmy found he just wanted to walk away.

"Nothing's wrong, what do you want?" he snapped brusquely, trying to scare her away.

"Timmy, I just wanted to ask you...well..."

Luckily Chester's dad pulled up across the street, nearly hitting a mailbox. Trixie watched horrified as Chester exited the car, wearing flamingly gay attire. She looked behind her at her Crowd, watching her talk to Timmy. She looked at Timmy, desperate, and then at Chester, scared, and then at her people, smirking, and she walked away without a word.

Chester watched her walk away and slapped Timmy on the shoulder. "Jeez, what'd you say? Just walks away like that," he laughed, and pulled Timmy along with him to the door. Timmy noticed that, aside from the clothes, Chester hadn't really changed much after the outing thing. Unlike AJ, who was walking toward them in the distance.

Chester and AJ glared at each other. Timmy stood outside the door as Chester entered. "Timmy, come on," he begged from inside the building. "Ignore him. Please," Chester sighed, but Timmy held his ground. He refused to pick one gay friend over the other, especially because when he did play favorites, it usually ended up in one of them not only being angry at the other but also angry at HIM, and Timmy didn't enjoy being sucked into their little squabbles.

-

So, after lunch, Timmy got involved with one of Chester and AJ's little squabbles.

He was playing the middleman of notepassing, a very juvenile behavior, but when AJ and Chester were pushed to a certain point in their arguments, it was necessary. They refused to talk to each other, usually speaking through Timmy. Even Cosmo and Wanda had input;

"Wow, I wonder what happened. Don't they usually only pass notes through you when it's past the point of no return?"

"I'm not judgmental, but Timmy, this is really gay."

"Cosmo!!"

"No, it's alright Wanda...he's pretty much hit the nail on the head..."

Except then Timmy had to stop talking to them because people tend to stare at people who talk to their Transformers notebooks.

"Give this to AJ," whispered Chester, about five minutes after everyone finished staring at Timmy. It was math class. And it was boring. So Timmy sighed and humored his best friend, passing the note to Trixie and mouthing 'AJ'. She flirtatiously touched his fingers as she took the note, shamelessly allowing them to linger before she pulled her hand away. "Oooh," Cosmo giggled, and Timmy smashed his fist down on his notebook over his face.

This did not escape notice of the teacher, who was no Crocker, but rather strict in his own right. "You seem to be rather interested in your notebook today," he said, holding up Timmy's notebook with Cosmo's bruised face for all to see. "Maybe you should spend some extra time with it in the office." He tossed the notebook back on the desk and indicated the door. Timmy got out of his desk, wearing his dad's boots, and clomped out.

-

The hallway was lonely. Especially since after every class it was packed with stinky, greasy teenagers, and the smell of french fries and A&F perfume lingered ghostlike in the hallways after they went to class. Timmy wafted through the clouds of this scent, getting fainter as he neared the office. A clop of shoes followed him...he turned, and experienced immediate deja vu. Trixie was running toward him. She slowed to a walk when he met her eyes.

He waited for her to call out to him, but she was quiet. They walked soundlessly to the office together...outside the door, Timmy finally asked, "Why are you going with me?"

"I 'smart-mouthed' at Mr. after he sent you out. This is our last class together; I wouldn't have a chance to talk to you any other way," she explained. Timmy sighed, appreciatively, and decided that this time he wouldn't scare her away. He opened the door, and held it for her, the office lady giving them a look and motioning with her finger for them to sit down.

The office ladies were notoriously slack when it came to in-office class detentions. Being sent down to the office usually just meant that you missed a mind-numbingly boring class (such as geometry) and got to hang out in the office. The ladies even ignored texting and videogames while students sat in the office.

"Timmy," began Trixie, sitting beside him in a cushy turquoise chair. "I wanted to ask you...well, you know what I want to ask. Why I'm all dressed up." He stared at her. The office lady was glancing over with interest while talking on the phone. Timmy chose to feign naivete. "Trixie, I have no idea what you want to say," he said, and knew that it was a bad act because she shot him a look with an artfully plucked eyebrow raised. "Okay," he said, admittedly. "I know. But Trixie, don't you think..."

"Timmy," she cut him off, "there are two rumors going around that I know are not true."

There was a pause in which Timmy was supposed to go, 'What?', but he didn't. So she inhaled and continued. "One is that, since you hang around Chester and AJ, you are a homosexual. I know this isn't true," she assured Timmy when he started to laugh, "but it's what people are saying, and my image is completely built on what people say. The strange thing is, though, that there is another rumor going around..."

Again there was a pause when Trixie waited for Timmy to show interest. He didn't, because he could already guess what this second rumor was. So again Trixie was forced to hold herself up.

"...and this one is about your old babysitter, Vicky." (Timmy managed to convince most of the school's population that Vicky was no longer babysitting him, because fifteen year olds generally resent being treated as babies. Besides, if people heard about Timmy being babysat, they would assume things about his rather dysfunctional family life; '"I wonder what his parents are like?"' '"Do you think they beat him?"', etc..). "People say that you're in love with her. This rumor, I'm honestly not that sure about," she admitted.

Timmy didn't answer her, not wanting to lie to Trixie. After all, she'd gone to all this effort to look nice for him so that she could "ask him out" or whatever she was planning to do, and Vicky wasn't nearly as beautiful as Trixie, even Timmy saw this...

But Trixie just didn't understand the mechanics of love. She was emotionally sheltered and empty, knowing only happy, sad, infatuated, and angry...and visibly letting them show. Vicky was deeper. She let nothing of her soul out to Timmy, keeping it inside._ 'Maybe,' _Timmy liked to imagine,_ 'maybe she even hides her real self from that rich boyfriend of hers.'_ Vicky had substance. Vicky was intelligent. Timmy was nearly certain that Trixie was neither, "nice" as she was. All that she had was her beautiful face and the smell of money that came with mention of the Tang family, and some nice legs.

This wouldn't do for Timmy. He was aware that most unrequited love was ugly people falling in love with beautiful people, or dumb people falling in love with smart people, or emotionally barren people falling in love with perceptively philosophical people, or, in other words, useless people falling in love with the supposedly useful people. But Timmy didn't consider himself smart, and Trixie wasn't smart either. He didn't associate himself with the awkward, shy nerds who fawned over her, and he didn't associate himself with the stone-dumb jocks who asked Trixie to do their homework. He was confused as to why Trixie liked him now.

Then, Timmy realized...When he was infatuated with Trixie, he was even lower than her on the emotion-registering level. He had the mind of a rat and the body of one as well. She was so above him...and then he fell in love, in true love, REAL love that develops over time and patience, with Vicky. While wrapped in this love, he forgot all about Trixie for a long time. He discovered a deep and introspective side of himself that he'd never would of known was there if not for his "cruel" babysitter.

While infatuation and unrequited love usually involves two somewhat opposite persons, Love, Real Love, requires two of a like mind, even a like soul if you want to get spiritual. It was why Chester and AJ wouldn't work. It was why Mr. Crocker and Principal Waxelplax would never work. It was, inevitably, why he and Trixie would never work. They just couldn't register on the same level.

"Timmy?" Trixie said. "Timmy? You haven't answered me."

"You never asked a question."

"Don't be a smart-ass. I implied one."

"Ask me straight up, then."

"Straight up?" she was suddenly angry at him. "Fine. Are you in love with Vicky?"

Yes, Timmy nearly answered. "She's going to New York, nobody's going to see her again, and she hasn't babysat me for years." Every part of that sentence was true on some level...Vicky wasn't a babysitter in the true sense of the word. This seemed to satisfy Trixie, who was visibly pleased.

By now the office lady was staring intently at them and listening in rapture to their conversation. "Timmy, I would now like to ask you; do you want to pick me up tomorrow night and take me to a movie?" Trixie rested her chin daintily in her palm. She was so delicate and small. Timmy stopped himself from answering right away, and instead made himself look like he was having a hard time deciding what to say.

"Trixie, sorry, but..." he could see tears forming in her eyes. _'Quick, stupid,'_ he commanded himself, _'rescue your ass! Now! Think...a-ha! Sappy movie lines!'_ "...but it's too late to make a relationship together," he murmured in a husky voice, taking the hand holding her chin, "it's just too late. We come from completely different backgrounds, our families would clash and inevitably separate us."

"Oh, Timmy!" cried Trixie, to the delight of the office lady who was nearly in tears at this point, "We can make it work! And if not, we could elope! Run far away together, travel distant and sensational lands where no one will ever think to find us or judge us!" "That's the catch," continued Timmy, in a brilliant act of unmovable sobriety, "we shall–" mentally he scolded himself for using that word, but Trixie ate it up, "–never escape the judgement of the people who's eyes rest upon us. They will always question our...our love. We will never be at peace, no matter what brilliant and glorious lands we find ourselves in."

Her eyes brimmed and overflowed with melodramatic tears. She was sad. She was taking it seriously...just as Timmy planned. He hated to manipulate people, but he found that this was a necessary action. "Oh, Timmy," Trixie sobbed. The office lady cried gently with her, offering invisible support of the teenage heroine of this dramatic happening.

The bell wrang. Trixie and Timmy parted ways, her sobbing and rubbing her streaked eyes with her beautiful hand-knit sweater, and him smiling in glee. He'd escaped. He was free to live on. But, as he passed a final note between Chester and AJ before getting on his bus, Timmy wondered if he would regret his decision.


	5. Vicky's Hooha

**- Friday -**

"AND I THINK YOU'RE WORTHLESS!"

"Vicky–"

But she opened the bathroom door and threw rolls of toilet paper at him. He dodged them, and turned away from the sight of her naked on the floor of the bathroom. There was blood; not much if you were talking wound, but rather a lot for a menstruation cycle. Those were always heavy for her, and everyone around her (usually just Timmy) got hurt just for breathing her air. Timmy didn't mind though. He didn't care if she chopped his fingers off with an ax, which, thankfully, she herself said that she wouldn't bother doing; he'd love her anyway.

"I HATE EVERYONE!"

"I understand," tried Timmy, but Vicky only threw bloody wads of toilet paper in his direction. He dodged them or batted them away. "I know how you feel," he repeated himself, louder, but she wailed to cover up his voice. Timmy wondered if Vicky knew what it was like for people to care about her; he wondered if her new, rich, New York-er boyfriend even thought about how Vicky felt about things. "_You don't_," she blubbered into her knees, "_you don't know anything about having blood leak out of you for a week, nonstop. You don't know about not having anything around to soak it up so you have to use toilet paper. You don't know, Timmy. You don't..._"

That's what Vicky was thinking, but that's not what she said. "TIMMY, FOR GODSSAKE, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!" screamed Vicky instead, and Timmy wandered away, leaving the bloody wads of toilet paper to sit in the fluorescent light that his father insisted he install.

That Friday, Timmy skipped school. Again. And he unplugged the phone, too. It was because he needed time away from Trixie after she tried to "ask him out" in the principal's office, and it was also because Vicky had stopped him on his way to the bus after school and told him,

'"_I'll be at your house tomorrow if you need me around_,"'

which, to Timmy, meant that they might share an intimate moment of baring each other's souls to each other, but it only lead to Vicky lamenting in the bathroom because there weren't any tampons anywhere in the house. 'Mom always takes them with her when she goes somewhere, which is a lot,' Timmy tried to explain, 'so she just leaves them in the car.' 'Yeah?!' Vicky had replied with tears of anguish streaming down her face, 'I bet it's because yo momma going through menopause!!'

So it was useless trying to calm his babysitter down. Timmy had beared her insults ever since he woke up and saw her yelling at the TV first thing in the morning. At least he was waking up to the image of love and not of parents.

"Oh, WHY..." Vicky continued to scream in the bathroom, the smell of menstrual blood leaking out of the room. Timmy snuck into his room, and lightly tapped on the fishbowl...

Cosmo came out first, and Timmy knew something was wrong; Cosmo never came out first. "What?" he whispered in a crabby tone, "Wanda is sleeping after staying up half the night worrying about you!" "I just wanted a...well, are you sure Wanda can't do this one for me?" Timmy whispered back, embarrassed. Cosmo glared, looked like he was going to say something in an outburst, but stopped himself.

Then Wanda swam out of the castle. "We've had to listen to her all morning," she groaned, "and now that smell... You humans are so clueless. I hope this wish makes her stop."

"I wish...that there were some tampons in the bathroom downstairs."

"What are those?" asked Wanda. Surprisingly, Cosmo knew. "Aren't 'tampons' those cotton things human girls..." he stopped himself again, looking at his wife. She frowned and got the picture. "Well, I suppose that we aren't the ones who need to know what you wish for," she sighed, and held her wand up with a tired fin.

From downstairs, Timmy heard: "AGGGH, I WISH I WAS...Oh, here are some tampons. HEY TWERP, I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOUR MOM TOOK ALL OF THEM WITH HER!" Timmy didn't answer Vicky, and bowed Japanese-style to his godparents. They bowed in return, and paddled back to their little castle. Timmy wondered what Wanda had meant when she said that she and Cosmo didn't need to know what Timmy was wishing for to make his wish come true.

He cautiously stepped downstairs, and Vicky was sitting on the couch, clean and bloodless like nothing happened. "Hey twerp," she said, gently and relieved. Timmy was surprised. Vicky had cleaned the kitchen of her bloody evidence.

"Yeah, but you might not want to look behind the toilet," she said after observing Timmy's amazement at the bloodless room. He looked behind the toilet, of course, and saw a bloody pile of toilet paper. "I didn't want to touch the wall of my hoo-ha. You know, for sanitary reasons. So I just kicked all the junk behind your guys' toilet..." she paused a moment in self-reflection, but her face returned to its normal meanness a second later, "...not that I should explain myself to you, twerp."

Needless to say, Vicky knew that Timmy would have to clean it all up if he didn't want Mom and Dad to pitch a fit. He decided not to, and flopped down next to Vicky on the couch. He had all day, after all. And when she wasn't stressed over her menstruation cycle, Vicky could be a rather pleasant morning person by her standards.


End file.
